


Spiders and Shadows

by korben600



Series: Realpolitik AU [1]
Category: Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Realpolitik AU, but it's reversal is literally the first chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 19:50:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korben600/pseuds/korben600
Summary: Peter Parker died as a hero...and he came back as to find himself replaced. If he can't find himself in his old world, maybe he can find himself in a new one.or...at least he can find himself with someone new......AKA "That fic where Peter Parker comes back from the dead and nobody needs him but at least his new girlfriend is a headmistress and has got her boo covered."





	Spiders and Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Set during that time that Kitty Pryde was the head of the Jean Grey Academy, when she parked the school in the middle of central park.
> 
> ...also, technically set in my "Realpolitik AU" but it's like a 20/80 shot of that actually getting written anytime soon so it's not really a big deal. All you really need to know is that the mutants have their own nation now, so they're not on the imminent brink of extinction like usual.

Coming back from the dead...is weird. 

And not for the reasons one might think.

Death is generally fairly permanent for the general populace, sure.

But for heroes? 

Heroes never die.

...well, at least for any statistically significant enough amount of time that normal people would classify as “dead”.

So death, for a lot of heroes, is just a pit stop.

A nice dirt nap on the road to their next adventure. 

...or so they’d like to say.

The swarmier heroes, the badass ones, the cool ones, they prefer to play it off. They like to pretend, every time a friend comes back from the dead, that they knew it all along, there was no way he’d _ stay _ dead, that’s stupid! They’re too stubborn to die!

...and some are. And many do come back. 

But every time a friend dies, even if that friend has come back every time before, there’s a little part of everyone they’ve ever met that dies with them. 

Even the hardest of heroes still mourn.

Which creates a little problem for those coming back from the dead.

See, the worst part of being revived from the dead isn’t being dead, or being revived.

It’s living. 

Everyone else moves on. 

No matter how many heroes come back, no matter how often someone _ specifically _ has come back, death still feels permanent at the funeral. 

So people do what people do best. They cry, they mourn, and they move on.

And when heroes come back, they find that the spot in their friends and family’s lives that used to be _ them _, has been filled while they were gone. 

And coming back...almost feels like intruding. 

It’s unspoken, but any hero that’s been around the block _ knows _this.

Dying, and coming back, is hard. But that sort of pain has _ nothing _ on living.

...that being said, dying and coming back does _ hurt _ like a sonuvabitch. 

* * *

The first thing he felt was a burning sensation. It was like flames coursed through his veins, burning his entire body from the inside out as he could do nothing.

The second thing he felt was his lungs pulling in air for a scream.

The third thing he felt was disconnected shouting in his ears as he sunk into unconsciousness.

* * *

He woke up in a hospital gown, with an oxygen mask over his face. 

_ Well, at least I’m not dead... _his inner voice muttered. 

His eyes, about to shut again, flew open in horror, and the man’s torso sprung forward out of the bed, ripping out IV’s, monitoring equipment, and his oxygen mask, causing the machines hovering around him to scream in dismay. 

“Holy shit, I’m not dead!” Peter Parker said to himself as he began jumping his hands to various body parts. 

Two arms, two legs, and one head later, and he was hyperventilating slightly less than before. 

“Wait, I...oh…” he said quietly and looked out the nearby window as the machines continued trilling continuously. 

Brown and orange leaves were falling on the window, creating a picturesque fall day framed in glass.

Said glass also captured a semi-transparent reflection of Peter’s face becoming more and more horrified.

_ No... _

He stumbled out of the bed and quickly scanned the room with frantic eyes.

Sounds of heavy footfalls came through the thin door.

His gaze stopped at a box near the door.

In it lay his Spiderman costume, tattered, old, and rotting. 

_ Nononononono… _

He rifled through it, quickly finding the webshooters, miraculously still functional, as he tested it on the door, sealing it shut with a quick spray. 

Peter was just in time, as the door rattled with force from someone trying to force it open. 

He quickly opened the window by his bedside, and shot out a webline through it, and swung out. 

As he left, he heard the sound of _ something _ tearing through the doorway, and an angry accented voice shouting after him. 

“DAMMIT BUB! We’re trying to help you!” 

_ Ah, Logan. _ Peter thought to himself offhandedly. _ Then this must be- _

He swung off, getting a majestic view of a large school building with various metal structures attached to it and a large X on the front

-_ The Xavier School _. 

Peter frowned to himself as he began to swing from tree to tree, noticing a city skyline just jutting above the treeline. 

_ Wait...the Xavier School is in Central Park? No, nononono… _

* * *

He swung up to an apartment building in one of the less gentrified areas of New York.

Silently, Peter opened the window, and jumped into the room.

It was empty, with no furniture of any kind whatsoever, no electronics on the wall, not even a rug to line the cold wooden floor.

“No...nonononono…” Peter said as he slumped against the windowsill, his breath catching as he struggled to keep his eyes from leaking. 

But just as he was about to break down, he heard a rapping against the window he was leaning against. 

A grizzled, old, and _ very _familiar face leaned in and looked at him.

“Hey bub.” 

Peter froze. 

His fingers gently, and quietly found their ways to the webshooter activators, ready to spray him into a wall.

“Relax webhead, it’s me.” the grey haired man said with a roll of his eyes. “If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already.” 

“How’d you find me, Logan?” 

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You reek of blood, sweat, and desperation. I could have tracked you through the Savage Land with you smelling like that.” He said sardonically. “...that being said, I’ve been waiting five minutes for you to show up.”

Peter’s confusion must have showed, because the grey haired man smirked at him, and gestured behind him.

Peter tilted his head to look where he was pointing and saw a woman on the sidewalk across the street, dressed in an unusual black outfit, and carrying a massive glowing sword. She waved at him sarcastically.

“You’re predictable, and we have teleporters, webhead. It’s not _ that _ hard.” 

Logan’s expression softened. 

“We also know where you want to go next, kid.” 

He passed him an address. 

“She’s there.” 

Peter took the address silently, memorizing it, before looking back up at Logan.

He looked conflicted for a second, before Logan interrupted him.

“Just ask already, you idiot, it’s freezing out here.” 

“...how long was I gone?” 

The old man sighed. 

“Not as long as my face indicates, bub. I’m from another dimension, and a little farther down the road than _ your _Wolvie.” 

Peter relaxed minutely, to which Logan sighed in sadness. 

“But...you were gone a while, kid. Things changed. You’re not going to like what you see.” 

Peter sighed, and his shoulders slumped.

_ I know. _

“I have to make sure she’s okay.” 

Logan nodded and moved to the side, and Peter quickly left the apartment, swinging off into the distance. 

A flash later, and the woman across the street was now next to the old man on the fire escape. 

“Well?” 

Logan shrugged. 

“He’ll be fine. The webhead’s a tough nut. He just needs this.” 

* * *

Mary Jane Watson was watching TV silently. 

She wasn’t quite asleep, but she was getting close to it. 

Being curled up in her boyfriend’s arms was doing wonders to calm her down, and slowly, her eyes began to close.

But just as she was about to fall asleep, a shadow moved in the distance. 

Years of superhero antics had conditioned her fight or flight instinct to a tee, and she got up quickly, if carefully, to not disturb her couchmate. 

She walked out onto her balcony, and stared out into the distance, squinting, looking for...anything….

And something moved on a foreign rooftop, something that almost seemed like-

“MJ, you okay?” came a voice from inside. 

She paused and squinted at the object. It didn’t move again. She shrugged. 

“Thought I saw something.” she said casually, before walking back. “I thought it looked familiar.” 

“Hey babe, anything happens, I promise I’ll keep you safe, okay?” 

The woman rolled her eyes and gave her boyfriend a peck on the lips. 

“I know…” She said as they settled back into gazing at the TV, oblivious to the eyes watching them. 

* * *

Peter leaned back his head on the glass. From his perch stuck above Mary Jane’s balcony, he had the perfect vantage point to bend over the top of her open door and see her and her boyfriend curled up peacefully on the couch. 

He continued to watch, for a few seconds. 

Just long enough for his eyes to begin to water. 

The first drop hitting the ground seemed to echo, and MJ seemed to stir, looking up.

By the time she had gotten up the second time, Peter was already halfway down the block. 

His tears were carried away by the wind as he swung.  


**Author's Note:**

> I make no promises on if this will actually be updated anytime soon, or at all. I've broken way too many of those to make another.


End file.
